Beyond the Breaking Point: Seven

The next morning, Cassidy faced her wan appearance in the bathroom mirror. This was the second night in a row that she hadn’t had much sleep and it showed. Unfortunately, she couldn’t blame Max this time, at least not directly.

A good portion of the anger sustaining her had dissolved during the night, giving her conscience a chance to kick in. Damn it, she didn’t want to feel guilty, not for having sex with Max nor for leaving Phillip stranded in Orlando. Unfortunately, her parents raised her to have good moral values and her recent behavior, no matter the provocation, went against everything she believed herself to be.

And if she lost herself, she’d lose everything that mattered.

Cassidy hung her head over the sink, warring within herself. She knew what she had to do but still had just enough anger inside to make the idea unpalatable. Phillip didn’t deserve it, but this wasn’t about him. This was about reclaiming the person she knew herself to be and not losing respect for the reflection in the mirror.

Sighing, she washed her face, brushed her teeth and dressed in something comfortable for the day. She had a lot to do. Might as well get the unpleasant part done first.

She found her phone in the corner where she’d thrown it. Thank God for Otter Boxes, or she’d be purchasing a new iPhone. She dialed Max’s number.

The line rang a few times, then she heard the sounds of fumbling before Max’s husky voice came on the line. “Cass, is everything okay?”

She shivered at the sensory memory of hearing that same husky voice on the pillow next to her yesterday morning. “Max, sorry to wake you. I didn’t check the time before I called.”

“It’s fine,” he said around a yawn. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing. I need the name of the resort where we stayed in Orlando. I can’t remember.”

“Summer Bay,” he answered readily. “Why do you need it?”

She sighed. “Because I need to fax Phillip a copy of the flight information. I took it with me when we left.”

There was a long pause. “And the problem with that is?”

She groaned. “Max, don’t. Yeah, part of me doesn’t care that I left him stranded. I know it’s the least of what he deserves, but unfortunately my conscience doesn’t agree.”

“Like I said, you’re a classy lady. Follow your conscience then, but I still don’t see why you need to fax the info. Can’t you simply email it to his phone?”

“Yeah, I could but I rather fax it to the front office with instructions to give it to Phillip when he checks out.” That way he could sweat a little, wondering how he’d get home.

That startled a chuckle out of Max. “I probably shouldn’t tell you this, but he doesn’t have to go into the office when he checks out.”

“Huh.” Cassidy thought about that a moment. Bounced what she wanted to do against what she knew she should do. “Damn.”

“Sweetheart, like I said before, you’re much too good for Phillip.”

There was a brief moment of uneasiness at the endearment before Cassidy realized Max didn’t mean anything by it. “Thanks, Max. Sorry I woke you.”

“Anytime. I mean that, Cass.”

She disconnected the call and spent a moment sitting on the side of the bed, letting her thoughts wander aimlessly. She hated this. Hated the drama, the turmoil and anger. All Cassidy wanted was peace.

She hurt in ways she hadn’t believed possible. This was worse than the first time. Cassidy had thought nothing could surpass the embarrassment, shock and horror of discovering she had a sexually transmitted disease. She let her thoughts drift.

“Mrs. Brannon, what can I do for you today?” her OB, Dr. Manning had asked. “From your chart I see it’s not time for your annual.”

Cassidy smiled. She loved Dr. Manning and hoped one day Cassidy’s patients would feel the same about her. “I seem to have developed a yeast infection. I’m having a discharge and a bit of lower abdominal pain.”

Dr. Manning’s blue eyes showed her concern. “How long has this been going on?”

“About two or so weeks. I tried one of those over-the-counter medicines but it didn’t help, so I thought I’d better come in. You know what they say about doctors treating themselves,” Cassidy said with a shrug and a laugh.

“Yes, we are pretty terrible about it,” Dr. Manning agreed. “I’m surprised you didn’t try to do your own exam.”

“If I thought I could reach, I might would have.”

Dr. Manning laughed, as Cassidy intended. “Let’s take a look and see what’s going on.”

When she returned with the results of the testing in hand, all traces of laughter were gone. Silently, she handed Cassidy the test results. Cassidy scanned over them. “This…this makes no sense. It says I have Chlamydia. That’s an STD. I’m married. I don’t sleep around.”

“You’re very fortunate, Cassidy. Many women discover their condition after it’s too late. I know I don’t need to tell you the damage Chlamydia can cause on your reproductive organs.”

“There has to be some mistake. Are you sure these are my test results?”

Dr. Manning’s kind blue eyes were sympathetic. “There’s no mistake. I’ve seen this type of infection before so I knew which tests to run.”

“But how…?” Cassidy’s voice trailed off as the knowledge sank in. The only person who could have given it to her was her husband.

“Make sure your husband is treated as well, and I advise abstinence until all signs of the infection are clear in both of you. If that’s not possible, use a condom to prevent re-infection,” her doctor said gently. Dr. Manning handed her a prescription. “I’m sure I don’t have to tell you take all of it. I want you to come back and see me in three months. I’d like to retest you to make sure all signs of the infection are totally clear.”

Mind whirling, Cassidy had made the appropriate responses.

“Cassidy,” Dr. Manning had said in her gentle manner. “I can only imagine how you must be feeling right now—the anger, the hurt…”

The embarrassment, Cassidy thought.

“…but at least this was treatable. Talk with your husband,” she advised.

Thank God it had been treatable, but what if it hadn’t been? That “what if” had stayed with her a long time.

Cassidy had confronted Phillip that very same day. She’d called out sick to work, a first for her, and had his bags packed, sitting at the door when he arrived.

He’d come in, giving her a puzzled glance. “Hey, baby, thought you had to work today.”

“I took off so I could take care of some housecleaning,” she’d said, knowing he wouldn’t get the irony. He was the trash she wanted out of the house. By now her rage had cooled until it was a cold, lethal blade.

“Oh. So, what’s for dinner?” he’d asked, crossing over to give her his usual peck on the cheek.

“Don’t. Touch. Me. You cheating bastard,” she said in a hard angry tone.

He’d frozen, the hand he’d raised lowering to his side. The guilty shock on his features had quickly, and calculatingly in her opinion, changed to one of confusion. “Baby, what are you talking about? You know I’d never cheat on you.”

“Don’t. Don’t try to play me like I’m stupid. You gave me a goddamned STD!”

Phillip’s expression went blank, then hardened. “I’m clean. If you have an STD, you didn’t get it from me. Who have you been messing with? Have you really been at the hospital all those nights as you claimed?” he asked, his voice rising in anger.

“Don’t you try to turn this on me. You gave me Chlamydia. Do you know what it does to a woman’s body? To yours? It infects the reproductive organs. If it’s not caught early enough, it will kill any chance I have of having children. Make a man sterile.” Cassidy held herself very still, knowing if she’d allowed her body the slightest bit of freedom, she’d fly at Phillip and inflict the damage her rage required.

He was looking a little green around the edges. “But I don’t have any symptoms, any signs of something being wrong.”

“In most cases there aren’t any symptoms until it’s too late. I was one of the lucky ones,” she said bitterly, “if you consider my husband being a lying, cheating bastard lucky. Believe me; don’t believe me. I don’t give a damn. Just take your shit and get out of my house before I kill you.” Her expression, coupled with her tone, must have convinced him she meant it.

That’s when Phillip noticed his luggage sitting by the door. “Cassidy, there’s no need for this. You’re right, I haven’t been faithful, but it was only the one time. More of a one-night stand than an affair, I swear. She was some woman I met in a club one night when I was angry and hurting, and had too much to drink. I promise, it never happened again and never will happen again. I love you. Always have; always will. Please, please, forgive me.”

“Once was one time too many.”

“Cassidy, don’t do this to us.” He moved forward as if he’d touch her and she jerked away. “I know I was wrong but I was lonely. You spend so much time working, you’re never here. We barely see each other anymore.”

Her mouth dropped open. “So this whole thing is my fault?”

He held out both hands in supplication, and earnest expression on his face. “No, no. I’m not blaming you. I’m simply trying to explain.”

“Screw your explanations. You think they matter to me? We discussed this. Obstetrics isn’t a nine-to-five job. It’s a time-consuming and demanding career. You didn’t seem to mind while I was going through residency and that was a bitch. I was gone a whole lot more than I am now.”

“That was because I was focused on our future, but damn it, Cassidy, you’re certified now. Do you realize how much time I spend alone, waiting for you to come home? I asked you, Cassidy. Hell, I even begged you to consider going into private practice so you’d be home more. You refused.”

Cassidy flinched inwardly, trying to ignore the kernel of guilt his words planted. She didn’t want some tame office practice. That’s not why she’d become a doctor. She enjoyed working in a hospital environment helping the low-income crowd and the underprivileged. “Just leave, Phillip. I don’t want to see you, talk to you, or hear your voice. You’ll be hearing from my lawyers.”

“I’ll leave for now, but I’ll be back. Don’t make any hasty decisions. We can fix this, Cassidy. We will fix this. I love you and want our marriage to work. When you calm down, you’ll realize you love me too. Maybe we need to go to marriage counseling. I’m willing to fight for our marriage, are you?” With those parting words, he picked up his luggage and left.

Phillip, she discovered later, had gone to Max with his tale of woe. She’d immediately had all the locks changed, which felt satisfying at the time but ended up being an exercise of futility. In her anger she’d forgotten she was dealing with a lawyer. It hadn’t been long before he’d been in the house with her, sleeping down the hall in the guest bedroom.

She’d tried her best to ignore him, but Phillip was determined when he wanted something and what he wanted most, he’d said, was to fix their marriage. He cooked, cleaned, brought her flowers and little trinkets. Eventually, as her body healed and her anger subsided, he was able to wear her down. Cassidy had reluctantly agreed to the counseling.

It had taken weeks of intensive counseling before she’d begun to open up. Months before she’d allowed Phillip into her bed, and only then with a condom. Cassidy had thought they’d both changed as a result of the work they’d put into saving their relationship. That their marriage was now stronger, unbreakable. She’d been wrong.

Rehashing the past wouldn’t change anything. Time to move forward.

Using her phone, Cassidy assessed the Internet, downloaded a copy of the flight information, and sent it to Phillip’s email. That task accomplished, she glanced around at her belongings in the room. She needed moving boxes to make the transporting of her things easier. And while she was at it, now that she knew Phillip was still in Orlando, she might as well go to the house and make another pass at the contents. Cassidy still didn’t want anything that would remind her of her marriage, but there were things she’d left belonging solely to her and she wanted them.

Grabbing a yogurt and a disposable spoon, she left the hotel.